


Our Mars

by orangeunnie



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, OT8, Seonghwa centered, Sickfic, mostly canon, with some embellishment heh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 09:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18657430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeunnie/pseuds/orangeunnie
Summary: Seonghwa was the oldest, which meant he had to be the strongest. But what happens when he isn't?





	Our Mars

**Author's Note:**

> My first Ateez fic! I hope you all like it :3 
> 
> I kept this mostly canon based on fan accounts of their tour but I did alter the timeline a bit, and of course events behind the scenes are fiction.

“Happy birthday hyung!”

“Seonghwa hyung, happy birthday!”

Seonghwa waved off the chorus of well wishes as he tilted his head to the side for the makeup artist currently applying his eyeshadow; his members had been congratulating him since they landed in London and at this point he was starting to get embarrassed by the attention. “Thanks guys, but you don't need to tell me anymore. It's not even my birthday yet here.”

“But it's the 3rd in Korea,” San pouted, “or is it?” 

The younger member scrunched his face in exaggerated concentration, counting the days on his hands. 

“Either way, I think I've had enough 'Happy Birthdays' to last the next 5 years,” Seonghwa chuckled, which turned into a fit of coughs. The makeup artist stepped back to give him room.

“That cold's not gone yet, hyung?” Yeosang asked from the next chair over, lowering his manga to glance at him.

“Says the one who's been coughing since January,” piped in Wooyoung from the other side of the room.

“I have asthma, it's different.” Yeosang rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like 'friend of four years'.

Seonghwa wiped his nose with a tissue. “I thought it was finally getting better until the flight, the air pressure just made it worse again.”

He wasn't sure what kind of luck it was to come down with a nasty virus between their American tour and their European leg, although it wasn't all that surprising considering the amount of cities they'd been hopping around and all the air travel in between. At least the worst of it occurred back in Korea during a week's break (Hongjoong, his roommate, had even slept out in the living room of their dorm to avoid his germs), or so he thought.

Yeosang frowned at him and looked like he was about to say more, but San was already drawing their attention away as he flitted around the dressing room in his new bathrobe, quite proud of his recent purchase. The conversation moved on and a nearly fifteen minute long debate occurred on whether he should have gotten the tea set instead of the robe, before their leader entered and announced that they were to be onstage in twenty minutes. 

“Ten shows guys, let's do this!”

They all shouted in excitement, Seonghwa too, although his throat twinged. Hongjoong gave him a questioning look that Seonghwa waved off, wondering if this was going to be harder than he had first imagined.

 

 

Between the intensity of their first show and the late night staying up to do a birthday livestream for the fans, Seonghwa was already starting to feel a weariness setting in. He'd skipped dinner on their arrival in Lisbon, choosing instead to go directly to their hotel room to crash on his bed. Luckily Yeosang was his tour roommate again and he knew he would be quiet when he returned with the others from dinner. It only took Seonghwa a few minutes to drift off, still wearing his travel clothes beneath the sheets. 

His coughing woke him, a rattling itch in his chest that he had to get out. His throat burned. 

“Hyung?” Came a sleepy voice somewhere nearby. “Are you alright?”

Seonghwa opened his eyes blearily as he rolled onto his side and hung his head over the edge of the bed. Yeosang was sitting up now too, rubbing the sleep from his own eyes. The clock on the nightstand flashed half past three in the morning. 

“Do you want some water?”

Seonghwa didn't even have to answer, Yeosang was already tiptoeing over to the small fridge to grab a bottle. He twisted the cap off as he walked back and held it out for the elder. 

“Thanks,” rasped Seonghwa between coughs. The coolness soothed his throat and finally his coughing settled. “Sorry for waking you.” 

Yeosang sat back on the edge of the bed across from him, head tilted in thought as he watched Seonghwa take another sip.“That doesn't sound like it's getting any better, hyung, maybe you should get it checked out...”

Seonghwa shook his head. That was the last thing he needed right now, that his group needed right now, him dragging them down or worse, being sidelined at their next concert. They were on their first tour and he wasn't going to ruin it for everyone by being the weak link. He could handle it. 

Yeosang slid back under his own covers and settled back to sleep as Seonghwa finished off the bottle, eyes falling on his roommates injured hand resting on the sheets. He'd dislocated a finger back in the US during a performance and hadn't once complained about it. In fact, the members hadn't even realized he was injured until well after the show; Yeosang had kept the pain entirely to himself. It just reaffirmed to Seonghwa that his cough was nothing. _I can handle it_ , he repeated to himself, waiting for sleep to return.

 

 

He made it through the Lisbon show, the flight over to Paris, a night out enjoying the city, and the first half of the concert the following night. But by the time they reached the encore, Seonghwa felt like he'd been hit by a bus. His footwork became sloppy and he gave up trying to sing his parts altogether. At one point the spotlights had split into two and spun around as he waited for the next song to start. Someone put the hand on the small of his back, pushing him towards his position.

“It's Say My Name, remember?” He heard Yunho whisper over his shoulder. 

The music started up and Seonghwa fell back into motion, letting momentum carry him through the rest of the set list. 

When he finally sat down backstage it felt like time had both stopped and fast forwarded. It took him a few minutes for him to notice that a staff member had a hand on his shoulder and was shoving another bottle of water into his hands. Seonghwa tried to lift it to his lips as someone patted away the sweat on his forehead, but found his arm was too heavy to move. 

“What's wrong with him?” He heard a high voice asking from a distance. _Hongjoong?_

“Dehydrated, we're trying to get some water into him. Tell the boys to keep going to Hi -Touch, we'll announce he won't be attending.”

 _Huh?_ Seonghwa thought, trying to shift away and stand up. His attempt was stopped by their manager who pushed him back down without much force. 

“Seonghwa, drink, you need to drink.”

The bottle was brought to his mouth by someone else and he coughed and sputtered as the water splashed down his throat. He felt like he was drowning and he coughed harder to clear his lungs. 

“That's it, you're okay,” one of the stylists soothed, rubbing his back. He managed to gulp down what he could between the coughing. “Good, Seonghwa.”

They finally pulled the bottle away when there was only a little left and let him lie back on the sofa. His body felt weighed down, like he'd just run a marathon, and now his chest was aching, particularly on his left side. Panic started to rise up as he realized he really was missing an event with the fans, but his manager was standing close by and kept turning to check on him. 

He couldn't believe it. They weren't even half way through their tour and he was lying here, unable to join his members. They were going to be disappointed, the fans even more so. Seonghwa let the guilt wash over him. He was the eldest, he was supposed to be the example, the strong one. When the other members were sick or hurt, he was the one to look after them, to make sure they took their medicines or rested their injuries. When they were upset or stressed, he was the one they came to for comfort. Yet here he was spread out on a sofa, useless.

Seonghwa pushed himself up on shaking arms, holding his head for a moment while his vision stopped spinning, and then stood up. 

“Seonghwa, it's almost over anyway, just sit back down.”

“I'm fine, hyung, really. I was just tired.”

His manager looked unconvinced but didn't argue, instead handing him another water bottle. “Drink.”

Seonghwa took it dejectedly and threw back a few more gulps. The members returned just as he was finishing. 

“You're alright, hyung?” Jongho asked, his young face unable to hide his worry. “You really weren't looking good when we came off the stage.”

“Yeah, I'm fine, just tired. Didn't sleep well last night.” Seonghwa turned away before they could ask more. “Let's go have dinner.”

 

 

Berlin and Amsterdam were uneventful; Seonghwa's coughing had calmed some but the ache in his chest was still there which he managed to keep at bay by some painkillers his manager had smartly brought with him. His exhaustion was only increasing though and perhaps he should have skipped the sightseeing in Milan and Budapest. 

He took the last pill in the bottle on the plane to Stockholm and slept the entire flight. Perhaps it was the position he had been in but when he awoke for landing, but the pain in his side had returned tenfold. Every time he turned his body or took a deep breath, there was a sharp stabbing sensation along his ribs. Finally at the hotel after hiding grimaces from everyone, he looked in the mirror. He couldn't see anything; he thought maybe he had bruised the area during one of the dances, but his skin was smooth and even. Lightly, he prodded around with his fingers and he doubled over the sink when the pain hit. This wasn't good, not at all. There were only three shows left though, five more days until they returned to Korea and he could go to a doctor back home. And he didn't want to worry their manager by asking for more medication. _I can handle it_ , he told himself over and over, _just keep it in._

 

 

Every movement sent shock waves through Seonghwa's body. He wasn't sure where in the concert they were as he was moving on pure adrenaline and muscle memory. At some point he'd stopped using his left arm, putting his hand into his pocket to keep that side of his body from hurting so much. It only helped a little. 

Between the final song and encore, multiple staff members and Hongjoong himself had come up to him and begged him to stay off stage yet he refused to listen. Were they nuts? The fans would notice if he wasn't there, they'd worry. It would ruin the whole show. 

“Seonghwa, please, I don't know what's up with you but you're not with it right now. Just stay off for the encore.”

Hongjoong was angry, his eyes intense, trying to hold Seonghwa's gaze. It just made Seonghwa want to try even harder to keep going.

Their cue came and Seonghwa, holding his breath from the pain, stumbled back out onstage with the others. It was a stupid decision and he realized too late. 

The last bars of their most intense song finished, Seonghwa throwing himself through the moves until the final note where they all fell to the stage in unison. The cheers of the fans faded out of his hearing, exchanged with a ringing in his ears. His vision went black and star bursts appeared behind his eyelids. The pain in his side was so bad he felt nauseous and he laid there, fading in and out as he tried to control his breathing. It felt like minutes had passed but it must have only been seconds because he felt someone roughly grabbing him and pulling him up, repeating his name in a hushed tone, pushing him into position for the last song. He wasn't quite sure how he made it, the performance was one giant blur of light and sound, and then he was stumbling, his legs wanting to give up entirely. Someone was holding him again, directing him into the wings. An arm was around his waist, a flash of red hair near his cheek. 

“Stay with it, hyung, we just need to get off stage.” It was San, his normally steady voice wobbling in worry. The arm around Seonghwa tightened to keep him upright but unknowingly pushed on his painful ribs and Seonghwa gasped.

“Sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong,” San pleaded. He sounded on the verge of tears now. 

“It's....okay....,” Seonghwa breathed, trying to reassure the younger. 

Soon enough he was handed over to the staff who he trusted to have a better handle on things than his nervous younger brother. He was laid flat somewhere, cold towels being applied and his sweat wiped away. The pain in his side was still there, throbbing with each heartbeat. Seonghwa wasn't sure if he had blacked out again but the next time he opened his eyes, there were three sets staring down at him in various states of concern. Hongjoong, Yeosang and Yunho. He could hear Wooyoung's voice not too far away, comforting San, and he assumed Mingi and Jongho were nearby too. 

“Are you okay, hyung?” Yunho asked. The smile normally situated on his face was gone. More than anything, that's what scared Seonghwa. 

Before he could answer, Hongjoong squatted down closer to his level. “You passed out, Seonghwa, why didn't you tell us you were in pain?”

Seonghwa blinked up at him, not knowing what to say and just wanting to get his bearings first. 

“Shh,” Yeosang hushed. “Let him have a minute, hyung.”

Hongjoong didn't argue, remaining crouched at Seonghwa's side, lips pressed into a thin line. 

Seonghwa breathed slowly through his nose, assessing his current position. His ribs were still pulsing painfully with each exhale but he no longer felt as nauseous. He felt, more than anything at the present moment, embarrassed. 

Yeosang must have sensed his mental discomfort and lightly grabbed Hongjoong's arm, pulling him back up. “Come on, we can talk back at the hotel after the doctor checks him out, we have to get ready for Hi-Touch.”

“I'm going too,” Seonghwa finally said, pushing himself shakily up from the floor. He grabbed at his ribs when they twinged in protest. 

“Hyung....” Yunho whined, looking hurt. “Please, just rest.”

“I'm not missing another event.” His tone wasn't all that convincing considering he had to grunt in pain in the middle of his sentence.

Hongjoong sighed. “Just let him. But he's first in line and he's getting out of there as soon as the last fan goes by. Manager hyung has a doctor waiting at the hotel after.”

“I'm right here, you know,” Seonghwa said, annoyed. 

“Yeah, and not very capable of taking care of yourself.”

Their leader turned haughtily on his heels and walked out. 

 

 

Seonghwa stared up at the ceiling of his hotel room. Just as Hongjoong had said, they'd had a doctor come for him as soon as they had returned that night. Through broken English from either side, he found out that one of his ribs was likely bruised, possibly cracked, from the intensity of his coughing fits earlier in the week. He was prescribed another pain medication and anti-inflammatory to get him through the rest of the tour, and was told to get it properly x-rayed when they returned to Korea to be sure. He could already feel the medications working and mixed with the exhaustion of the day, it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. Yeosang had gotten cleaned up in someone else's room while Seonghwa was being examined and now he was just waiting for his roommate to return so he could turn off the lights. 

There was a light knock on the door before it opened. 

“Finally, Yeosang, took you long enough. Did you take your entire skincare routine with you?”

“You're one to talk.”

Seonghwa opened his eyes at the voice that was not his roommate's. Hongjoong peeked around the corner. 

“Joong-”

His leader waved a hand to hush him as he walked over and plopped himself on Yeosang's bed. It was another minute or two before either spoke again. Being the same age and the oldest members, they didn't often fight, instead choosing to set aside any differences for the greater good of the group. However, the rare time they did fight, usually started like this. 

“I know you're mad, Joong, but I had my reasons,” Seonghwa started off, once again staring at the ceiling to avoid the other. “We practiced so hard for this tour, everyone put in so much effort, I couldn't be the person that brought everyone down.”

Hongjoong sighed as he reclined back against the headboard. “I'm not.....mad, Seonghwa. Disappointed and worried but not mad. You scared the hell out of us, you know?”

Shame bloomed on Seonghwa's cheeks as he recalled the sound of Wooyoung hushing San backstage. Had it been that bad?

“We were all worried, but we also know you and your stoic ass,” Hongjoong continued, chuckling a bit, “so we decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. But you should have come to us if you were really in that much pain. We could have helped you. Just as much as you are here for us, Seonghwa, we are here for you too. You don't have to be the strong one all the time. Let us be that for you when you need it. That's what our team....family, is.”

Hongjoong trailed off, picking at a loose thread on the bed covers. Seonghwa blinked rapidly to try and clear away the pooling wetness in the corner of his eyes. Their leader was right, he should have trusted them more and told them earlier. 

“What about the fans?” Seonghwa asked. “I didn't want to miss anything and disappoint them.”

“I'm sure they would have preferred you rest than see you almost collapse on stage. Our Atiny are understanding.”

“Did I....?”

“No, I don't think they saw, they lowered the lights fast enough.”

Seonghwa let out a slow breath, thankful for that at least. 

“Anyway,” Hongjoong huffed, sliding off the bed and standing over Seonghwa for a moment to pat his hand. “I should probably go and let everyone know you're not fatally wounded so San can stop blubbering. I think Yeosang wants his peace and quiet back too, he's stuck with the maknae and the football game on TV.”

Seonghwa laughed which caused his ribs to twinge again. He moved his hand to the spot.

“Don't make me get Jongho to bubblewrap you two,” Hongjoong smirked. “He might take too much pleasure in that.”

“Please don't make me laugh more, it hurts,” Seonghwa whined. 

“Rest up, Mars, we still have two shows left. You're lucky I convinced them to let you finish.”

“You know me so well.”

“That's what leaders are for.”

Hongjoong left quietly and Seonghwa thought about what he'd said. Family, they really were a family. Sometimes crazy, sometimes dysfunctional, but always loving and trusting. He sniffed and wiped his eyes just as Yeosang returned.

“You didn't see that,” he whispered to his roommate.

Yeosang shrugged. “See what?” Then he passed Seonghwa a tissue.

He slipped into his bed and turned out the light. 

“Yeosang?”

“Mm?”

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too, hyung.”


End file.
